


Coconuts

by Sargentpepper23



Series: Trapped, but along for the ride [4]
Category: One Piece
Genre: All Heat wants is to sleep with his girlfriend, F/M, Killer needs a distraction, horrible ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 17:56:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sargentpepper23/pseuds/Sargentpepper23
Summary: Her "give-a-shit-meter" was gradually breaking as she heard more and more of their ridiculous ideas. For the sake of Heat and Iris's relationship, she would willingly out herself as a pervert to prevent them from ever doing "that". Unable to keep her mouth shut any longer, she spoke: "I'm telling you, just spell coconut."





	Coconuts

Coconuts

The crew was twitchy.

It may not have been evident at first glance, but she had been stuck on the ship long enough to know their quirks.

Having finished up her lunch in the dining room, she watched as the majority of the crew were unknowingly bobbing their knees, tapping their fingers, and occasionally glancing at the clock, only to let out loud sighs as time continued to drag.

Sitting next to her, Killer's knee was lightly knocking against the bottom of the table, causing her glass to creep towards its edge. Irritated, she peered up from her crossword and noticed the man had abandoned his weekly reports and was absent-mindedly fiddling with the ends of his hair.

Giving the man a _look_, she leaned forward and moved her glass a safe distance from the table's edge. Snuggling back into her chair, she focused on the puzzle in her lap and tried to ignore Killer's constant movement.

She would never admit it out loud, but she was bored as well. They had been sailing for over two weeks, and while the surrounding water was beautiful, it had lost its charm after she had stared at it for seemingly the 100th time.

Another reason the crew was antsy was they would be docking at an island later this afternoon. If she remembered correctly, the port was a favorite haunt of theirs, with Killer once referring to it as a "fun" town. She learned long ago that was code for "sleazy hellhole filled with excessive amounts of booze, violence, and prostitutes."

_Psh, that's fine with me. Even if I was allowed to leave the ship, the crew couldn't pay me enough to actually go with them. _

The woman was looking forward to a few days of peace and quiet, including having her dwindling supplies replenished. Solving 9 across, a smile crept onto her face as she scribbled down the word and twirled a pen between her fingers in thought. _Hmmm, I'll have to give Heat my list later. _

She already thought the quiet crewmember was sweet, but on docking days, he's a god amongst men. While docked, the man would pick up everything she needed without fail, including the exact brand of powdered donuts she liked. She had learned early on that if she split the bag with him, he wouldn't tell Captain Buzzkill, AKA Kid, about the sugary confections.

_Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank, clank. _

Not bothering to look up, the woman cleared her throat in annoyance and moved her cup back _again_ to the center of the table. Even after audibly expressing her irritation with the blonde assassin, he continued to bob his knee, seemingly unaware of her increasing urge to strangle him.

Dragging her eyes away from 11 across, she side-eyed Killer and noticed he was _still_ inspecting the ends of his hair. Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she went back to her puzzle. _He’s__ probably looking for non-existent dead-ends. _

A few minutes later, a loud laugh drew her attention to the other side of the room. Clustered around a table, several crewmembers were talking over each other to Heat… and making weird hand signals?

Intrigued but not wanting to appear overly nosy, the woman looked down, feigning concentration, and eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Come on, man! Stock up on some handcuffs and whips! Girls like that shit."

"Ignore him! Go to Sally's and buy a giant bottle of lube and toys. Make sure to get the warming kind and-"

"How does Iris feel about giant dildos? If she's down for it, have her back that ass up while you push in from-"

"Buy the market's entire stock of strawberries, whip cream, and chocolate sauce! Lather her, and you, in it then eat-"

_Holy. Shit._

Wide-eyed, the woman stuck her pen in her mouth to prevent any unusual sounds from escaping her throat.

_And… that's what I get for being a nosy little shit. Forever traumatized by the knowledge of Heat's sex life._

Glancing up with heated cheeks, she both heard and saw the men continue to list off outlandish ideas they had either heard of or had experienced with past sexual conquests.

Closing her eyes, she mentally shoved the images of the fire-breather, entangled in numerous sexual positions, out of her mind. _Think about something else, anything else, like dinner. Oooh, roast chicken, and mac and cheese is going to be good! I heard chef say he’s serving up strawberry shortcakes with whip cream- GODDAMNIT STRAWBERRIES AND WHIP CREAM!_

Snapping her eyes open at the unwanted image that popped in her head, she pulled the pen out of her mouth and went back to her crossword, vowing to _never_ eavesdrop on private conversations again.

Staring at the puzzle, her eyes tried to focus on the words as she read, and then re-read them, failing to compute a single thing. Her mind staunchly _refusing_ to ignore the information she had overheard.

Knowing she would not be able to concentrate until they finished talking about _that_, she mentally prepared herself to be forever scarred and considered an answer to Heat's "problem."

Deep in thought, the woman began mentally reviewing everything she knew about sex. However, she was quickly pulled out of her brainstorming session when a crewmember's appalling sex advice inadvertently drew a scoff out of her.

_Well, that's a slightly over the top idea. Heat should figure out whatever this Iris girl likes first, then see what makes both of them tick… maybe start with something simple… _

Still, in thought, she muttered under her breath, "Spell coconut."

Not realizing she had spoken aloud, she jerked upright in her chair when a husky voice drawled "C-O-C-O-N-U-T. Coconut."

Recovering from her fright, she tilted her head to the side and studied the first mate, his knee _still _moving like a jackhammer. With his mask, it was hard to tell exactly where he was looking, but she hoped with every fiber of her being that he couldn't read the dirty thoughts dancing in her mind.

_Shit, I'm still blushing. I can't let Killer know my mind is practically bathing in the gutter. _

Clicking her tongue in approval, she awkwardly replied "Oh, thanks," and stuck her nose back into her crossword.

Not taken aback by her strange retreat, Killer shrugged it off. He didn't want to say it out loud, but it looked like "coconut" wouldn't fit in the row she was trying to solve. Internally sighing, Killer reluctantly dropped his hair and began sifting through the mound of reports stacked in front of him.

Watching the first mate sink into the pile of reports, the woman released a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Still wary of the man next to her, she slowly allowed her mind to drift back to her last sexual thought. She analyzed it, considering any possible problems and fallouts from it, then decided she was going to tell Heat.

_Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank, clank_

Leaning her head against her knuckles, she took a deep breath then slowly exhaled. _Remember, even if you manage to kill him, prison is bad, but Kid is worse. _

She stared Killer, and his _incessantly_ twitching knee, down, until she realized he was entirely absorbed in his paperwork. Rolling her eyes, she decided it wasn't worth the trouble and moved her glass _again_.

_I'll tell Heat my idea later. I don't want Killer to overhear this._

Not even thirty seconds later, she was dragged from her thoughts by a genuinely _terrible _sex idea. She only heard half of it, but whatever it was, it involved rope, candles, Hot Pockets, and a goat.

_What, the actual, FUCK. _

_Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank, clank _

Her "give-a-shit-meter" was gradually breaking as she heard more and more of their ridiculous ideas. For the sake of Heat and Iris's relationship, she would willingly out herself as a pervert to prevent them from ever doing _that_. Unable to keep her mouth shut any longer, she spoke: "I'm telling you, just spell coconut."

Apparently, her voice wasn't loud enough for them to hear her. However, Killer did.

Peering up from his reports, his brow crinkled as he looked at her quizzically. _Didn't I just spell this for her? _Still looking at her strangely, he repeated his earlier answer "C-O-C-O-N-U-T. Coconut", then turned to scrawl something on a page.

_Clank, clank, clank, clank, cla-_

His pen scratched a jagged line across the paper as the woman's hand slammed down on his knee like a vice. Surprised by her sudden aggression, he started to speak, then stopped when he noticed her flushed face and icy glare. Maintaining eye contact, he watched her pick up his bottle, snatch the coaster out from underneath it, and place it under her glass. She squeezed his knee once, her fingers feeling like a brand through his jeans, and growled, "Thanks, Killer."

At that moment, Killer knew two things. First, he didn't know what he had done to annoy her, and honestly, he didn't care. Whatever he _had_ done, he wanted to do it one more time so he could feel her slender fingers pressing into him again. Second, he was almost positive she was using the word "coconut" as a sexual reference.

He was about to ask her about it when Kid's voice crackled across the intercom. "Everyone, get your asses on deck! We're nearing the port."

_Guess I'll have to ask her later._

For ten seconds, the dining room was chaotic as anxious crew members shoved their way through the small door-frame, all of them looking forward to excess amounts of booze and lusty prostitutes.

After Killer had finished shuffling his reports back into a near-perfect pile, he extended his arms behind his head and stretched. Groaning in relief as his neck and spine popped, he stood and grabbed his drink and papers. Lazily making his way to the door, he waved at Heat, utterly unaware of the woman's eyes tracking the sliver of skin now exposed on his hip.

Killer was already in the hallway when he heard the woman call Heat's name. More curious than he should be by what she had to say, the first mate pivoted, sidled up against the wall, and cocked his head to hear.

"Heat, I have to be honest, those "ideas" are a crock of shit."

A shoe scuffed the floor as Heat sighed, "They were just trying to help."

"I know they were. But seriously, only listen to _maybe_ 40% of what they said. The rest is either made up, way too hardcore for your new relationship, or will give you an STD."

The wicker from a chair creaked as the woman sat down and continued, "Listen, you need to take it _slow. _Get to know her body before you bust out every play in the playbook. Women are not shaped by cookie cutters. What may work for Iris might not work for other women, and vice versa."

A huff escaped her lips, "Look, you can either take it or leave it, but I'm going to pitch an idea for what you guys should do tonight."

The telltale squeak from Heat's old chair signaled the fire breather's heavier body leaning forward, most likely in interest.

Lining up a straw to a hole in his mask, Killer leaned his head back, took a sip, and listened.

"I'm going to be frank. Ask Iris to ride you while spelling coconut with her hips."

Killer missed Heat's initial reaction as he spit out his straw, trying to muffle his coughs as he choked on his drink.

"… What"?

"I'm serious. A few weeks ago, I read an article written by numerous "professionals," and in it, they discuss their favorite sex tips. One of them mentioned that if the woman on top spells "coconut" with her hips, it increases the pleasure for both parties."

In the hall, Killer was still trying to clear his throat, mind blown by the words continuing to pour out of the woman's mouth.

"Ok, secret time, I've never tried it myself, but my best friend has, and she SWEARS by it. If Iris is up for trying something new, tell her to give _you_ a whirl!"

Killer choked on air. _Did she seriously just say that? _Peeking out from behind the wall, Killer studied the woman. _Where is this coming from? She looks so innocent, why would she be reading sex articles? Better yet, where the hell is she getting these magazines when she's been confined to the ship? _

Apparently, the first mate wasn't the only one surprised by her knowledge.

Killer watched as the woman snapped her fingers at his immobile friend, Heat's eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock. "Hey! Don't look at me like that! If that's the most explicit thing you've heard all day, you're lying."

Shaking his head as if he were in a daze, Heat swallowed and looked at her in a new light. "No, it's not that. It's just… How do _you_ know that"?

She gave the fire-breather a strange look then gestured to her self. "Why wouldn't I? I'm a single woman in my early twenties! My hormones are putting me through the wringer because it's "prime time" to have a kid!

"Uhh, ok yeah, but…"

She threw her hands up and flicked her fingers, mimicking mini-explosions. "News flash Heat, guys aren't the only gender thinking about sex."

Heat looked like he was going to keep asking her questions, but she shut him down.

"Are you seriously wasting valuable time with your girlfriend because you can't get over the fact that women occasionally think with their vagina's? Get out there and GO. FUCK. HER."!

Before he could continue questioning her, an angry voice crackled through the intercom again, "HEAT! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND HELP"!

Stumbling out of his chair, Heat looked at the woman one last time, then _sprinted_ to help dock the ship.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she grabbed her crossword off the nearby table and walked out the door. Turning right, she started off down the hall towards her room, muttering about how clueless men are under her breath. Absorbed in her thoughts, she failed to notice Killer nestled into the shadows of the other side of the hallway.

The first mate stayed put until he heard her door close with a soft 'click.' Slowly releasing a long breath, Killer stepped into the light.

_What the hell was that?!_

Everything he had overheard was slowly sinking in, filling in the missing pieces of her quirky personality.

In the past, when the crew was talking crude, the woman would puff out her flushed cheeks and clench her fists in what he _thought_ was disgust. He had no reason to think otherwise? She never added anything to their conversations, and everyone on board thought she was a prude. Well, except for…

_Holy shit, I thought Kid was joking when he said there might be a hellcat on board. _

Killer stared down the hallway as he slowly connected today's event with past conversations, his imaginary light bulb flaring to life.

Maybe she wasn't disgusted by the crew's crude conversations. What if she was trying her best to not_ contribute_ to them? To let them know that she _knew_ the ins and outs of carnal pleasure.

Warmth flickered in his belly as an image of the woman, not as a prude but a vixen flashed through his mind. On her knees before him, hungry eyes held his attention as her hands slowly reached for his belt and-

_Fuck_

Desperate for answers, Killer took a step towards her room, slowly followed by another. His mind raced as he stalked down the dim hallway, his feet steadily picking up speed.

He wanted to know _everything_ she knew about sex. _Where_ she learned it. _How _she learned it.

A light flickered as he passed by, warping his shadow into a larger, more ominous predator.

_Was all that knowledge from articles and books, or was it through experience? _

He ignored the crooked painting on the wall, his single-track mind focused on reaching his destination.

_How much pleasure had she felt from another man? Does she scream, and cry, and beg as she nears her tipping point, finally losing herself in ecstasy?_

He was right outside her door, his hand inches from the knob.

_Oh, the things I would do to just-_

"KILLER! WHAT THE FUCK, LET'S GO?!"

The door groaned as Killer's hand jerked back from the half-twisted knob, Kid's angry shout on the intercom careening him back into reality.

Still readjusting to the present, he was unprepared as the woman threw open her door and shot him a questioning look. "You do know it's polite to knock instead of barging into someone's room, right"?

He didn't know what to do. His mind was producing image after image of her writhing in pleasure as he drew orgasm after orgasm out of her and-

Her waving hand snagged his attention, concern evident on her face as she softly spoke to him. "Killer, did you need something"?

He panicked. Tripping over his feet as he hastily backed away from the door, he pointed a finger at her. "Stay on the ship."

She rolled her eyes upward and scoffed. "Seriously? Of all the islands you think I would try and escape on, I would choose the one overrun by slave traders, drugs, and prostitution? You guys visit _all_ the time. Do you know how annoying it would be to constantly hide until I found a ship that would take me off the blasted piece of rock?

"Just-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know, _stay._" And with an exasperated sigh, she shut the door.

Staring at the closed door, Killer groaned in frustration as he slid a hand down the front of his mask. Turning, he slowly trudged back down the hall, his once pristine reports crumpled in his hands.

_I need to get out of here. I need to stay away from HER. _

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs leading to the deck, Killer looked back one more time towards her room, heat churning in his gut. Grinding his teeth, he whipped back around and stomped up the stairs. _I need a distraction._

~~~

_The next morning_

It was still early when the woman sat down with her newest book and a plate of pancakes and bacon. Peering around the dining room, the few crewmembers sprawled about were sipping coffee and squinting under the florescent lights, seemingly nursing hangovers.

Not at all surprised by their state, she ignored them and set up her breakfast layout. With practiced moves, she flipped her book open, stood it up in front of her plate, and began wolfing down a pancake, her eyes never leaving the page.

Two chapters later, a plate and a cup of coffee landed heavily next to her, causing a page to turn. Irritated by the disruption, she flipped the page back and glared up at the offender.

Locking eyes with Killer's signature mask, she huffed in annoyance as the man purposely dragged his chair closer to her seat and sat down. Rolling her eyes, she went back to her book and tried to ignore the clinking of Killer's silverware hitting his plate.

Three pages later, she felt the man move closer to her. Glancing sideways, she noticed Killer was leaning forward and staring at her book. _Is he seriously reading over my shoulder? _Irked, she clicked her tongue and turned towards him, ready to tell him off when she stopped, finally taking note of his appearance.

It wasn't his typical tank top and loose pajama pants that caught her attention. It wasn't even the fact that his hair was _clearly_ not brushed that morning. No, it was the long, red scratches marking his shoulders and back that made her eyes widen.

Feeling her gaze on him, Killer tilted his head in her direction questionably? She coughed, eyed the claw marks with a pointed look, and returned his stare, "Rough night"?

He huffed in amusement and took a long pull of coffee from his straw, "Something like that."

Not wanting to put too much thought into _how_ he got them, she settled back into her chair and continued reading. Killer's chair creaked as he shifted his weight, leaning forward to continue where he left off on the page.

The woman was so caught up in the book's plot and distracted by Killer breath hitting her neck, she missed the hurried footsteps heading her way.

She jumped as a hand slammed down on the table, her book toppling from the force. Crewmembers around the room groaned in pain and muttered complaints under their breath. One of them even clutched his head and softly called "Jesus Christ Heat, keep it down."

Following the hand back towards its owner, she ended up staring into Heat's smiling face. His eyes were shining with pure male satisfaction, and the woman tried not to stare at the apparent hickeys peppering the man's neck.

Amused, she picked up her apple juice and smiled back, "Well, how did it go"?

Heat's Glasgow smile widened considerably "Let's just say Iris and I will remember _that_ trick in the future."

Killer eyes widened under his mask. Leaning back in his chair and feigning ignorance, he asked, "What trick"?

Heat eyes lit mischievously as he looked at his friend, "Oh, nothing special. Iris just taught me how to spell coconut."

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. I apologize about the female main character. I honestly can't make up my mind if I should FINALLY give her a name/make her an OC, or have her be a reader insert. Eventually, I'll figure it out and you guys will be the first ones to know.


End file.
